


no shadow to bear

by actualraptcr



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 11:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19393486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualraptcr/pseuds/actualraptcr
Summary: there are hundreds of moments, thousands of minutes, and millions of years to a love story. reality might be ripping itself apart at the seams, but somehow, they make it work. eventually.or; four of the defining moments in the love life of becker and connor, 67 million years in the making.





	no shadow to bear

**Author's Note:**

> listen i don't have an excuse. i wanted to match @violetwreaths jess/jenny fic because they're an enabler and i'm still feral for primeval. go check it out!!

_ March 2008 _

Connor Temple liked to think he had his work and home life suitably balanced by now after two whole years of chasing prehistoric creatures through time. Every day he’d trick himself into believing that yes, he was that put together and nothing could even remotely phase him anymore. And yet. The moment his phone chimes with an anomaly alert or text from Cutter at the crack of dawn, or the middle of the night, it still left him feeling woefully unprepared to face the day.

He loved sleep you see and anomalies had really bad timing all round.

So on that particular morning he woke to Rex scrabbling across his chest, intent on snacking on every single piece of lettuce Connor bewilderingly found on his person. Abby was dead to him now, as was Cutter. He’d gone to bed barely three hours ago because he’d spent half the night playing Doom and he never did his best work when sleep deprived. Maybe he could grab an extra ten minutes? Just pull the cover back up and kick Rex out of bed and ignore the aggressive shout from downstairs.

“We’re already late Connor, so can you stop being such a baby and get up!”

She would hundred percent storm up and drag him outside in nothing but his tank and boxers is the thing and that was suitable enough panic to make him kick himself out of the duvet. In the half light of the flat Connor could never be sure what he was putting on but no one ever commented (to his face) about his fashion choices, so he just grabbed whatever was closest and clean. Made sure he had the detector and his spare keys in case something dramatic happened as was wont to where rips in time and reality were concerned.

Abby filled him in on the way over as they drove a little too much over the speed limit, incursion at the British Museum and that alone was enough to wake him up as childhood excitement came to the fore. He’d spent a good chunk of his free time as a kid touring London’s various museums and while Connor would say the Natural History Museum if a gun was pressed to his head, he had a soft spot for the ancient human cultures shown at the sister Museum. “Brilliant, bit ironic really but god imagine if it’d been the NHM ey? All the catching up they’d have to do after 65 million years.”

She didn’t find his joke funny, which was a bit rude really.

They're the last to arrive at the Museum, Abby’s petite Mini forever looking out of place among the bulky flat beds and SUVs the soldiers insisted on driving. Almost like they were compensating for something if you asked Connor. 

“If Cutter has a go, it’s your fault we’re late remember.” Abby threatened with a finger to his chest that was probably going to bruise later because that was just his life now, and made her way up the stone steps into the building. He was quick to catch up in fear of facing the professor’s wrath alone, but that particular stress was soothed by the sight of all the exhibits around them. They never lost their charm, and sure he was mid-20s and faced down dinosaurs on the regular but there was something mystical about a museum at night. Reminded him of something actually, that time he’d gotten trapped in the toilets and had a small breakdown because - what if the exhibits all came to life at night and he was stuck there with them?

The visit down childhood trauma lane had to wait however, when he caught sight of the team assembled in the main atrium.

Cutter in all his grouchy Scottish glory had stopped to face them as Abby called out across the room, looking entirely unimpressed by their tardiness as always. But Connor didn’t have a lot of time for that, or the stern disapproval radiating from Jenny and her fuck you heels tapping against the ground to the professor’s left. 

Of course he was used to seeing new faces around the place - Lester’s security army were picked off like flies half the time (like red shirts his inner nerd supplied) so a new figure clad in tactical black wasn’t world altering normally. In fact Connor wasn’t sure why exactly the new guy had him so caught off guard.

He had a bit of a baby face compared to the rest of the mob, but held himself like a spring coiled tight and radiated a low level of badassery that had Connor’s train of thought tripping over itself and leaking out his ears. The fact he had a really chiseled jawline that could probably cut glass might have been a thing too. Oh, this was going to cause issues he could tell already.

“Connor Temple, Abby Maitland, this is Captain Becker. He’s here to protect us, so do as he says.” The good luck with that was left unsaid. “Unless I think he’s wrong.”

Something in his stomach went a bit funny at the straight-laced nod of greeting the Captain gave them both, and Connor couldn’t help exchanging a glance with Abby at his side. He wondered if his expression managed to convey exactly how much of an internal panic he was having. He’d had this exact breakdown the first few times they’d left him alone to work with Stephen and it was kinda daunting to realize that maybe he had a thing for gun-toting guys that could kill him.

Interesting.

Abby didn’t look quite as flustered, more like devious. Her little face was scrunched up with curious devious energy and that never spelled anything good for him in the long run. He’d played his cards way too early with that shared glance.

Cutter didn’t give them a chance to introduce themselves beyond his own, body tight with the knowledge that an anomaly was open somewhere in the museum and someone could be dead already and that should concern Connor more than the fact action man looked just as good walking away as he did standing at attention.

Yeah, he was in trouble.

\----

_June 2008_

“Y’know I’m really grateful you’re letting me stay for so long and all Jenn but… is this really necessary?” Connor couldn’t help but ask when confronted with the scene before him. Sure he’d taken a few liberties with her generous offer of sanctuary from the rippling muscles and near constant half-nakedness of Becker back at the soldier’s place but this was a bit much.

Jenny had the audacity to appear affronted by his comment where she sat surrounded by multiple bottles of wine, expensive looking snacks and a hastily drawn banner that said ‘Intervention’. One of the bottles in question was suspiciously empty and that should’ve said a lot about where this evening was going to go. 

“I’m tired of seeing you moping around like some sort of kicked puppy, now sit down and have some wine.”

Sid and Nancy were ensconced in strips of fabric that had once been a throw, chirping excitedly to each other in the corner of the room that had been closed off as theirs after Jenny found them rummaging through her larder. She had to be at least a little tipsy to not care about that. 

A good friend would calmly inform her that this was a terrible idea and perhaps they’d be better off having a sensible discussion without the aid of drunkenness. The flaw with that suggestion was neither of them actually could discuss feelings without being roaringly off their tits.

But Connor lived by the saying when in Rome, and in no time the pair of them were stretched out on their stomachs across her low-lying sofas, crumbs scattered across the wooden flooring without care and a good half of the alcohol swirling in their stomachs.

“He does have a gorgeous face I will admit.” 

Connor threw an arm out in her direction, words slurring into one another in his need to get the words out as fast as possible, “Exactly! S’nothing compared to the rest of it let me tell ya. Like, I haven’t seen that far but he must have a great y’know-”

“Connor!” Jenny managed to sound both intrigued and disgusted in one word and that was an achievement. 

It set them both off into hysterics and Connor had tears in the corner of his eyes by the time they’d managed to calm down, a good half a glass of red later. He missed having nights like this with Abby, just the two of them laying about the flat playing games and watching movies he’d demanded she be educated on. He missed having his best mate there.

Jenny must have picked up on the shift in his emotions because the precarious hold she had on the stem of her glass was abandoned with a harsh clink to the coffee table beside them. Her hand settled on his wrist, the closest part of him she could reach in their odd sprawls, and delicate fingers gave the bony appendage a quick squeeze.

“Just tell him.” Her voice was soft, softer than she had a right to be. It was alright for her, Jess had got her adorable little self over the nerve-wracking thought of confessions. He’d already been kicked out twice for an impromptu date night (not that he begrudged Jenny that at all she really deserved some peace).

Connor shook his head, twisted until his face was buried in the slightly coarse fabric of the sofa under him. Buried his head in the proverbial sand as it were, anything to avoid going into it again. It shouldn’t bother him but it did, it really did.

They weren’t close but Connor liked to think he and Becker had a bit of a relationship, casual mates at the very least. Enough loyalty to mean that nothing would throw a wrench into things. But he’d been wrong.

“He looked dead serious y’know - genuinely thought he might shoot one of us.” It had been sufficiently jarring to see Becker pulled taut and finger on the trigger, and Connor still couldn’t shake the hurt that pinched his chest every time he pictured it. Didn’t matter that they’d all made up afterwards. The intent had been there in his eyes, he could tell.

Jenny sighed, put upon and fond, “Connor, you know it was all a ruse for Johnson. We’ve been through this. We all had a great laugh about it, even.” Her hand retreated from his wrist but the friendly warmth remained.

Maybe he was over thinking things. Danny hadn’t seemed phased by the showdown at the safe house, even had the gall to tease Becker about it all when they’d convened back down in the central hub. In hindsight that last bottle of wine hadn’t been a great idea because everything felt out of control and hazy when he finally managed to push himself up. 

It took a couple of tries of course but Jenny was a goddess and therefore didn’t make a comment until Connor was fully upright.

“Y’know what Jenn. Maybe I will tell ‘im.”

“Oh? Well let me know when you’re going to, I’ll make sure the confetti is ready.” She drawled as she twisted onto her back, hair a fan over the edge of the chair behind her. 

The splitting headache the pair of them sport the next day is a testament to bad decisions made in the middle of the night on five bottles of Jenny’s best Italian Red. Connor isn’t one for sunglasses but the blaring white-cold lighting of the ARC goes a long way to convincing him perhaps they’d be useful. Becker always looked good in them after all.

Jess has the gall to laugh at him when he passes her at the ADD on his way to the artefact station. Connor isn’t above admitting that he gives her the finger in return, quietly pleased by the giggle-infused gasp he gets in return.

Elbow deep in calibrations and the sheer strength needed to remain upright and conscious, the sudden warmth of a body just to his left shoulder and accompanying words is enough to make him startle. It’s embarrassing.

“Rough night?” Thick with amusement and that ridiculously hot upper-crust Eton boy accent, Becker is the picture of put together when Connor turns bleary sort of eyes on him. 

“Ye what?” Connor managed to spit out, brain still trying to fire up all cylinders and form actual words. All bravery that had possessed his body that night fled at the sight of him. Jenny materialises over the Captain’s shoulder, standing by the ADD with Jess and a look of ripe smugness on her perfectly not as hungover as she had pretended that morning face.

He can’t be confident, but he’s very sure he sees her mouth the word ‘confetti?’ and instead of responding just let his face slowly descend to press into the table.

\----

_ July 2008 _

The biggest regret Connor had in that moment was that he’d even entertained any sort of relationship with Abby’s baby brother at all. Trying not to have a breakdown with stress over Rex’s impending auction while also dealing with a rampaging medieval knight and what could be best described as a dragon by all concerned was a bit much even for him. 

“Remind me to murder you when I’ve got this sorted ye?” Was all he could manage down the phone before he hung up on Jack, entirely done with the whole scenario. How was he supposed to get the lizard back without a) Abby realising, or, and the much worse and more terriyfing scenario, b) Jenny realising he’d been privy to it all from the start.

Danny wasn’t impressed by the time he finally caught up with the ex-copper, impatient and aggravated that Ser William had slipped their hold once again. “Could’ve done with a bit of help there Connor. What’s so important that it can’t wait until we’re no longer having to deal with an angry man with a sword and his vendetta, ey?”

Connor can’t answer that, so he gives a helpless sort of shrug in response.

Nothing short of a miracle later (thanks mainly to Sarah and her not-so secret trip through the anomaly), they had the situation mostly sorted. The Dracorex was another issue entirely but they had more than enough room back at the ARC for him to stay. Danny had taken Sarah and Becker off to handle the logistics of carting the creature back through London without the public catching sight of it, leaving Connor to finish helping Abby get the poor thing fixed up.

“You’re in serious trouble y’know.” 

He’s elbow deep in bloodied bandages when she speaks up and a fog horn of absolute panic takes over all coherent thought. Mainly ‘abort’ in big, screamy letters. Had she heard him telling Jack something earlier? No he’d made sure to keep it on the down-low.

“Er, gonna have to be a bit more specific there Abbs.” 

She clipped off the final stitch, dark eyebrows raised as she looks across at him - radiating an amount of judgement he finds remarkable for her size. “You know what I’m talking about. Becker.”

Relief courses through him. Of course. He wasn’t about to die at the hands of the scariest woman on the team for lying about the kidnapping of her favourite prehistoric lizard. It raised several other issues however.

Connor sputtered a little and gave up all pretence of trying to help with the Dracorex under his hands, “What do ya mean, what’s action man got to do with anything.” He prayed desperately to whatever gods actually cared about him that she wasn’t about to call him out in public, where anyone could wander in at any time.

Abby heaved a sigh, like she couldn’t believe he was going to make her say it, and jumped down from the truck bed and the sedated creature on it to square up to him. Still intimidating despite only reaching midway up Connor’s chest. 

“Your boyfriend almost shot the poor thing earlier Conn, and he would have too if I hadn’t threatened to shoot him in return.” Said so matter of fact as if there weren’t several things wrong with that sentence. He really wanted to address the second thing, the almost shooting thing, because that gave him a mild heart attack but the other thing was a lot more pressing.

Connor cast a panicked glance over his shoulder to the wide open garage doors as if the man in question would be standing right there ready to laugh. His hands came up as if to hold her off, gesturing wildly as he tried to salvage the conversation. “For starters, did you hit your head or something? In what universe is Becker my boyfriend?”

He hates that his voice cracked just a little on that last word.

Her dubious expression doesn’t give him courage, nor does the way it slowly turns to sympathetic pitying. No no, he’d rather she go back to the wild allegations. “It’s kind of obvious how you look at him. And, well, I just assumed because of the way he…”

She bit her lip and trailed off. That wasn’t allowed, no dramatic leading words without going through with it. “Because of the way he what? Abby! The way he what?” But she shakes her head instead of continuing.

“Not my place to say, is it.”

Connor had never felt more frustrated by his best friend. Did she mean to say that the object of his not so secret interest had also noticed that Connor spent almost all of their time together staring at him and wondering what it’d be like to actually touch the muscles he’d caught a sneak peak of that one time at Becker’s flat? Because that’d just be cripplingly embarrassing.

He’d have to change his name and flee the country and everything and Connor doesn’t think he’d suit the name Alejandro.

Abby glanced over his shoulder almost imperceptibly, and her expression softened just a little when she met his eyes again.

“Just, please, promise me you’ll both get over yourselves yeah? Becker may be a bit too much of a soldier for my liking, but he’s a good man..”

With that cryptic final message, the petite blonde turned on her heel and left the garage. She passed Becker on her way out, who looks like he’d been standing there long enough to hear her last comment and gives her a loaded glance that she readily returns.

Connor wants to panic at the thought of them sharing a secret from him, and they way the Captain turns back to him when she’s gone. He’d clearly just heard everything Abby had said, and Connor didn’t want to remain in the same room as the soldier let alone the same planet. But he puts his meltdown to the side, because he’s had an epiphany that might just solve his Jack-shaped issues.

“Becker, mate, ya wouldn’t mind doing me a really big favour would ya?” 

He’s entirely surprised by how readily Becker agreed to the plan, Connor had half expected to be told in no uncertain terms that the tactical forces at the ARC’s disposal weren’t for personal use. And he definitely didn’t expect to find the cocky aura the Captain affected to threaten the idiot who’d taken Rex as hot as it was.

Where was Jenny, he needed another intervention.

\----

_ September 2009 (September 67 Ma) _

It had been a year now and Connor still found himself missing certain things about the future. A decent shower being a big one on his list, and a coffee. He missed coffee. Nothing like a good caffeine hit in the morning and it would certainly help him deal with getting up to take on the exhausting and utterly boring hunter-gathering duties.

But mostly, he missed his friends. His home. His family.

The way Danny could find the most inappropriate thing to say in any situation and make them all laugh with that stupid little grin on his face. Or Jess’ regular meltdowns over updates for the ADD and the way her nose would get all scrunched up in concentration. Jenny’s solution to any emotional problem being wine and terrible movies, and more wine. Rex and Sid and Nancy, Manny the Mammoth even. Hell, Lester would be a sore sight to see at this point.

And Becker. He often finds himself wondering what the Captain was up to, whether he’d finally had enough of dealing with the general chaos that came with the ARC. Connor hopes he hasn’t, because it’d be nice to see his pretty face again when they got back.

“If we get back, Conn.”

“Christ Abby, cough or something yeah? Gave me a heart attack.” And he doesn’t appreciate the dejected smirk she aims at him. It was a source of constant argument and it drove him insane that despite all evidence suggesting that anomalies opened and closed several times in their life-cycle, she insisted on being such a pessimist.

He jabbed the make-shift spear in his hand down into the water, snaring a fish without any effort at all, “Can we not get into it today, please? It’s bad enough we’ve got that Spinosaur lurking around the place.”

Life in the Cretaceous had been a lesson in patience, determination and sheer dumb luck - which they found to have in spades somehow. Connor was almost impressed at how much they've improved since the disastrous first night holed up in a tree.

His ankle still aches when it got cold.

And although she’s promised to let things drop when he asked, Abby has her mouth open with an expression promising a stern lecture on being realistic at the tip of her tongue. But nothing comes out. Instead, the haunting sound of warping glass and distorting air echoed across the river. 

There’s no hesitation in either of them. Connor doesn’t even try to give her an I told you so as they make a break for it, feet pounding over hard packed mulch to their campsite for the essentials. There’s no guarantee the anomaly will stay open longer than a few minutes and their strict rules means barely thirty seconds later everything they own is strapped onto their backs.

It’s just as beautiful as he remembers.

Abby takes his hand, grounds him in the now and drags his attention away from the pulsing wall of light breaking the fabric of reality. “Ready?”

Connor’s face splits into a trembling little smile, dimple at the corner of his cheek sharp where the baby fat had finally left his body after fighting for his life day after day. They don’t count to three. They just run.

And in one breath and the next the Cretaceous falls away, revealing skyscrapers and grey skies. Car horns in the distance and even though the air smells jarringly different after so long, it’s home. They’re home. Connor can’t help it as he starts laughing, joyous and loud and incredulous as he sweeps the blonde at his side into a bone-crushing sort of hug. Abby doesn’t complain, because she’s crying while she laughs just like he is.

There’s gun pointed their way within minutes and they’re forced to the ground with hands behind their heads. Not the welcome he’d anticipated, really. Bit over the top in his opinion. Really showed what had changed. God, they don’t even know how long it’s been this side of the anomaly.

Time moved in constant flux on both sides after all.

It’s worrying that they haven’t been met with a familiar face yet, all the screaming soldiers had looked unfamiliar and new and Connor felt some of his hopefulness die in his chest. Because he wasn’t there. Becker wasn’t part of the ground team. Neither was Jenny, who would’ve been put back in charge without Danny there to be team leader.

The tension is thick and Connor finds it hard to breathe in case they have itchy trigger fingers. He understood they couldn’t take any chances, but not a single one of them could recognise their faces? He didn't think the beard was that outrageous, to be honest.

“Well look what the anomaly dragged in. If it isn’t Connor Temple and Abby Maitland.” 

And then he finds it hard to breathe for an entirely different reason.

A warm hand slips under his arm to help him up and Connor can’t do much else but stare in silence at the face he’d missed like an ache in his chest for a whole year. Becker’s hair is slicked back in a more severe sort of style, shorter, and his face is less youthful but that smile. Now that smile hasn’t changed a bit. 

Connor hiccups on a laugh then, throat suddenly tight as he finds himself pulled into a pair of strong arms that seem intent on squeezing the life out of him. He buries his face into Becker’s neck and just breathes. It’s clean and warm and painfully familiar and god, right, Connor must stink this must be really uncomfortable for the soldier.

But even as he tries to wriggle a little bit out of the embrace, a small weight attaches itself to his side, thin arms winding around the pair of them. The three of them are one living, breathing unit for a glorious few seconds before Abby draws back and moves off. He absently hears her yelling for Jess, but he can’t focus on much else.

Becker has drawn back and the look in his dark eyes is a bit daunting. Connor can see fear etched beneath stress lines, all softened by the look of rapturous relief in his smile. He doesn’t know what his own face is doing, still frozen in a state of dazed comfort and a whole year’s worth of pent up frustration coming to the fore.

“Wait what about Jenny? Jess? Are they all okay, did anything happen while we were away? How long were we away actually- Abby and I have this ongoing debate y’see and-”

He chokes on his words as Becker gives him a short shake, incredulity crossing the Captain’s handsome features. “Connor, you’re an idiot.” Had he always said his name so fondly? Connor remembers exasperation mainly.

“Well yeah, we know this, that’s a well documented fact and I’m trying to ask you some really important questions Becker.” Connor can’t help the stream of consciousness now he has someone other than his best friend and a bunch of murderous dinosaurs to vent to, and he’d have kept going if Becker hadn’t managed to get a hand up and over his mouth.

His stomach got all squirmy as the other carefully looked him over, taking in the longer hair that kisses the nape of his neck now, the poorly styled beard and moustache vibe Connor had to adopt when shaving became too much of a waste of time.

“You look good.” Is what Becker eventually says, voice thick with an emotion Connor struggles to place.  _ I missed you _ , is what his mouth says when it slots ever so softly against Connor’s. Everything in him melts, tensions that had plagued him for months on end fading as he sinks into the pleasant feeling of making out with the hot soldier boy of his dreams. 

This is who he missed the most in the past, and if Connor has his hands up and under Becker’s ridiculously tight shirt and his tongue twisted with the soldier’s within seconds, well. Could you blame him?

**Author's Note:**

> i'm very much in primeval loving hours so come yell at me here or @actualraptcr on twitter bc i desire validation


End file.
